Talk at last
by AAB
Summary: After Paraguay Mac needs to talk to Harm. But is he willing to talk to her?


_Disclaimer: Not mine, Bellisario's_

**Talking at last**

_Set after Paraguay _

She knew what she was doing was insane. After all, she left him seventeen messages and he hadn't returned any of them. But still she couldn't resist the urge. After all, she had the afternoon off, so what was wrong with a stroll in the park, enjoying the snow and the beautiful weather. Even if that park was only a block away from his house and she _might_ find out if he was at home, _might_ even find the courage to knock on his door.

She parked her car halfway between park and his house. The weather _was_ fine and after days inside the office she enjoyed the fresh air. But there was no sign of Harm. Not that she really had expected him to be there, but still…

Against her better judgement she walked by his house, longingly staring at his windows. No movements were visible. It was no use. Walking back, her head hanging, she paid little attention to her surroundings or to the icy pavement.

When she turned the corner, she became aware of a figure, right in front of her. The sudden appearance startled her and she lost her balance, her feet giving way under her. She cried out when she felt her ankle twist.

For a moment she struggled to get up again but her ankle wouldn't cooperate, and she gave up, surrendering to the piercing pain. Harm stood a few feet away, just looking down on her.

It wasn't before she looked up at him, with a begging "Harm", that he made his first move. Without a word he lifted her up and started to carry her to his apartment.

His body was hard, all muscles tensed and his face grim. She furtively glanced at his face but didn't dare to say something, knowing he was in no mood to answer, so she closed her eyes and revelled in the feeling of being in his arms, knowing it would most likely be the last time she would be there.

After entering the building he carried her up the stairs to his door, fumbled with his keys to open it and let the two of them in. Still silent, he lowered her onto his couch, her back against one of the armrests, her legs stretched out on the seat. She watched him going through his apartment, grabbing an icepack out of the fridge, wrapping it in a towel and applying it to her ankle.

Going back to the kitchen he got two bottles of water and handed her one. Then he headed for the phone to hear if there were any messages. He bought himself a new phone, she absently noticed absently .

The voice of Webb piped up "Harm, I know you have a week off, but we have a situation. Contact me as soon as possible." Four more messages told the same, Webb sounding more impatient and irritated every time he had to repeat his words.

"You don't answer?"

He shook his head. "No, as Webb said, I have a week off."

She desperately searched for a safe topic for conversation. "You have a new phone", she finally managed to say.

He nodded reluctantly. Not a good topic, she realized.

"The other one broke," he finally said, then added "after I threw it against the wall" under his breath. Even from a distance she could feel his frustration.

She paled. "After one of my messages?" she whispered, already knowing the answer.

He nodded.

"You never returned any of them."

"I didn't know how." He lowered his tall body to the ground, his back against the couch, facing away from her.

"I was afraid…" his voice trailed. She waited patiently.

"I didn't have much to say. After all you made it clear ..." he restarted after a while. "I was afraid I only would yell at you. Half of the time I was just plain angry with you, half of the time I told myself I hated you…"

She gasped.

"… because I figured if I hated you missing you wouldn't hurt so damned much."

Without thinking she reached out for him and stroke his hair. Although he tensed at first, to her relief and delight he didn't pull back, even seemed to lean in slightly.

"I wouldn't have minded having you yelling at me. It would have been better, everything would have been better than not hearing from you at all, not knowing if you were even alive," she softly said.

She took a deep breath, willing back her tears.

"Clay never wanted to tell me anything. I had nightmares about walking into the CIA-building to try to find out something about you. And there they were, attaching a new star to that dammed wall and I knew I didn't have to find out anymore, I just knew it was for you."

They sat in silence for several minutes.

"Why did you take that job at the CIA?"

Harm shrugged. "I had to do something, needed a job. Bills have to be paid. I…, well I thought that when the admiral learned about the conditions you were in when I found you, you and Gunny and Webb, he might reconsider my resignation but .."

"I thought so too," Mac whispered. "After all, he took me back, even though he had me do rookie's work for a whole month."

"To be honest, after losing everything, my job, you… I couldn't care less about what was going to happen."

He took a gulp from his water.

"So I could as well take that job at the bureau."

After some moments Mac spoke again.

"Harm, I can see why you didn't want to contact me. But why not Bud and Harriet?" At least she would have known how he was doing, if he was alive, she thought.

He let out a wry chuckle.

"I was angry. Basically at the whole world. But also at all of you because of…"

He felt silent again.

"Because?" she prodded after some moments.

"Because I felt let down. If it had been one of you, having to leave the office like that, I would have done all I could to bring the admiral to reconsider his decision," he blurted out.

Mac sighed, after all they had tried. "Harm, we tried. We really did. But you don't know how the Admiral is acting these days. Every time your name comes up, even if it is unintentionally or in relation to an old case, he freezes. He acts like a porcupine, raising all its quills. It would have done more damage than good, Harm, not only would it have made him more determined not to give in, he also threatened to reassign whoever dares to speak up for you to Alaska. And he meant it!"

He slowly nodded. He could see her point. Knowing the admiral she was probably right. After some more moments he went on "I felt like I let people down. Bud… he always looked up to me. The way I left …I couldn't face the disappointment in his eyes."

"Bud still loves you, he still looks up to you," Mac interrupted.

He went on as if he didn't hear her. "And it was too painful. They represented a life, the life that was everything I ever wanted and now had lost. I didn't think I could bare having Bud call me 'sir' knowing I no longer had the right to be addressed like that or having Harriet fill me in about everyone and everything I was no longer part of. Fill me in about you and Webb…"

He bent forwards, wrapping his arms around his knees, resting his forehead on top of them, thus breaking the contact between her hand and him.

"There is no _me and Webb,_" Mac said softly.

With a jerk he turned his head towards her.

"We dated a couple of times, but …" She shrugged, "it didn't work out"

"Why did you kiss him?"

She sighed. "Gratitude partly, I think. He kept me from being tortured; let himself be strapped on that table," she shivered, remembering Webb's screams when he was probed with an electric prod.

"He did love me. And then, he was so badly wounded, I was not sure if he was gonna make it. I don't know, give him something to live for, I guess."

Again silence. She was just thinking about touching him again when he suddenly turned and hoisted himself on the couch next to her.

"Why _never_?"

"It was a stupid comment."

"We have a record of stupid comments, don't we?"

She nodded, thinking about his comment the day before the Jagathon-race. As in the past, he seemed to read her mind.

"I'm still very sorry about what I said back then, Mac, first because it hurt you. And secondly… now that I'm _not_ involved with you anymore, now I really know what being dead feels." Abruptly he stood up and went to the kitchen to get another bottle of water.

It took Mac some moments to digest his last words. A single tear slipped and made its way down her cheek and she swept it away angrily. When he returned she had herself under control again.

This time he sat next to her at the couch.

"Why _never_?" he asked again, his voice harsh.

"First, consider this, Harm. I had been through so much at that moment. Held captive, the murder of those two missionaries, Clay being tortured, not knowing if we were to survive. I wasn't even beginning to process that all."

She took a deep breath, choosing her next words with care.

"You remember what I said when I visited you the evening before going to Paraguay? You only seemed to be prepared to make a move when it looked like you were going to lose me. And then, when things were settled again, you backed off. If you were never ready to take another step, how would things even change?"

He snorted. That was what the admiral had said too, when Harm told him he was going after Mac. He had asked what Harm was prepared to do hold the girl, once he had her.

Tentatively she went on.

"Harm, I'm not a mind reader. No woman is, nor wants to be one. I've seen you act beyond your duty so many times I lost count. Yes, you said you resigned your commission in order to come after me, but as I said earlier, I thought the admiral would take you back once he knew. How was I to know that you wouldn't do the same for Bud or Harriet or Sturgis or anyone else? You may not be a Semper-fi Marine but you sure act like one when it comes to never leave a comrade. I needed to know whether I meant something more to you."

He didn't answer, but she could see he was listening intensively.

"Do you realize, Harm, this is the first adult conversation we have about our feelings since that night of my engagement party? How is a relation ever going to work when we can't share our thoughts, our feelings, motivations, our hopes, our dreams, our fears? If we – yes, that goes for me too, as much as for you - if we spend all our time fighting to be on top and are not prepared to be vulnerable, to lose control?"

The last words came out in a whisper and now she was loosing the fight against her tears. Without thinking Harm whipped them away with his thumb, like he had done so many times before. She leaned in to his hand, than turned her head and kissed its palm as she had done on the Admiral's front porch during her engagement party.

"Do you still think _never_?"

She shook her head "no".

Abruptly he stood up. "I have to call Webb back."

She nearly choked and it cost all of her marine willpower not to cry out loud. He was backing off, again.

In shock she saw him walking to the phone, pick up the receiver and dial a number. He must have set it on speaker mode, for a moment later Webb's voice was audible. "It's about time you returned my calls, Rabb."

"A good day to you too, Webb."

"Alright. This is the situation, you report to …" That was as far as Webb came before Harm interrupted with a determined "I'm not going, Webb."

"What?"

"I'm not going. Not on this mission, not on any other. I'm resigning my commission."

"You are quitting? What in hell …?"

"There are more important things, Webb, a relation for instance. Being a spook doesn't go well with that."

There was some sputtering on the other side of the line.

"I know. I'll make sure you have my papers as soon as possible."

Some more sputtering was audible, followed by a "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am. Goodbye, Webb." With those words Harm ended the conversations and went back to his spot on the couch.

Mac lay motionless, not believing her ears. At last she managed to croak "What relation?"

She saw him swallow, and, was it a hallucination or were his eyes moist?

"A relation that starts with dating and ends with growing old together, sitting on the porch, watching you grandchildren play. A relation in which you end and start each en every day in each other's arms. A relation in which you share your thoughts and feelings, your hopes, dreams and fears. A relation in which stars are something you look at from a blanket in the backyard instead of them being a symbol of death."

During his speech Mac's hands has gone to his face, cupping his yaws, caressing his cheeks with her thumbs.

"Sarah, do you want to go out on a date with me?"

She was so full of emotions she couldn't verbalize an answer but she nodded fervently. "Yes, I would love to" she finally managed to bring out.

With something between a moan and a sob he collapsed, burying his head in the crook of her neck. She could feel his tears on her skin, while her own tears flowed freely over her cheeks.

His arms went around her waist while hers encircled his shoulders, pulling him as close as possible. Long minutes went by, before he raised his head and was finally able to say the words he has wanted to say to her for so long "I love you, Sarah."

The end


End file.
